Bit of stream of consciousness I’m afraid.

I wake up this morning at 5:30 – have a bath, and pack for a couple of days in Liverpool.  I take my stuff outside to put in the car.

“Why does my car door look open?”, I think to myself.

The answer, quite simply, is because some arsehole has used a crowbar to open my car door.  Then they have wrecked the ignition wiring in an attempt to hotwire it.

So now, instead of having a few days of rest and relaxation, I’m going to be running around getting my car fixed before it starts to rain and I end up with puddles under the driver’s seat.

I expected this sort of thing when I lived in a huge block of flats – my car got stolen five or six times – but this is a quite little turning in a not bad part of town.  Yet the little f**kers still target my elderly 1.0l Ford Fiesta.

No doubt they wanted to have a fun little ‘joyride’, they like the small engined cars because they go for longer on a tank of petrol.  But because of them my next few days are ruined, I’m going to have to cough up money that I really can’t afford to spend and I’m going to have a constant headache from grinding my teeth for at least 24 hours.

I’m lucky, I suppose, in that the thieves were obviously too incompetent to actually hotwire my car, otherwise I’d now be waiting for a call from the police to explain that they found the car burned out on some wasteground.  I suppose that the wiring is so non-standard (from previous theft attempts), and this is why it wasn’t taken – because they definitely tried.  I’m also lucky that they didn’t steal my spare work shirt on the back seat.

One day the Gods will smile on me and I’ll catch them red-handed.  Then they’ll know what an intimate knowledge of anatomy can do in the wrong hands.

Right – time to report it to the police…